


An acquired taste

by evilleaper



Series: Prelude [4]
Category: Quantum Leap
Genre: Anal Sex, Established Relationship, M/M, Talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-21
Updated: 2015-08-21
Packaged: 2018-04-16 10:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4622235
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilleaper/pseuds/evilleaper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is slowly but surely rebuilding his life with Al. Sex happens.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An acquired taste

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Sam and Al do not belong to me, I am only borrowing them and promise to return them as soon as I am finished. No infringement to copyright or disrespect intended. 
> 
> Warnings: A little angst. 
> 
> Author's notes: This story is a part of my 'Prelude to a Leap’ universe and takes place after ‘First Times’. Please be aware that this story is unbetaed and contains Australian spelling. If you find a mistake please feel free to point it out to me.

Voices engaged in lively conversation and the sounds of activity fill the air, the familiar clatter of cookware and a very vocal cook shouting orders from the kitchen adding to the distinctive truck-stop atmosphere. According to the sign outside Pedro’s is the last gas stop for 25 miles and while there was plenty happening on the tarmac outside, inside is clearly where all the Friday night action was taking place. 

I guess the majority of people wouldn’t consider a fuelling station the most intimate of places, but Al knows more about the Stallion’s Gate and Spring’s area than I do, so it was easier to just let him decide where we would have a first meal out together. It’s not really a date; at least I don’t think that’s what he had in mind when he suggested a night out for a change.

I’m not sure.

The thought that Al may have intended something special for tonight leaves me feeling unsettled. I am still wearing the same clothes that I’ve worn all day and although I am presentable enough for our current setting I’m certainly not as fresh as I could be with a little notice. All I can think is that if there was something significant about today then surely he would have told me. 

I focus on the menu I have been given, trying to decide what I’ll have to eat and to relax. Al says we used to come here, but I don’t remember it. I still don’t remember a lot of things. Like how we negotiated our needs with one another. We must have in past and yet I have no idea where to start. 

The last few weeks have gone by so quickly, that it’s difficult to explain.

Waking up next to Al that first morning was in many ways the welcome home I had yearned for, but didn’t know I could have, or even wanted. It was though. I had never felt more content, warm and comfortable after so many years of feeling cold and adrift. I moved back into the house with him later the same day and for the most part we have gotten on with our lives. 

Technically I know we have been lovers for many years, but as I have no memory of those times I continue to think of all things as new. Al had been right, much of what did together, usually under the cover of darkness and in the privacy of our bedroom was unique, different to my previous encounters with women and yet satisfying in ways I never imagined. Not that I can ever recall imaging sex with Al before I leaped home. 

He still prefers that we create new memories rather than tell me how things used to be between us and I guess that is what I need to talk to him about. 

Generally he lets me set the pace of what we do together and for the last month it’s all been slow and careful. Not surprising perhaps is that Al is attentive and affectionate. Skilled and experienced in ways I could only hope to emulate, but even as he has continued to introduce me to new, more sensuous ways of pleasing one another I know there is something he was avoiding. I am not completely inexperienced and while I had never been with a man prior to Al I had a basic understanding of what being with one meant.

A nudge from beneath the table brings me back to the here and now and I look up at Al.

“Are you sure this place is okay, Sam?”

It’s a little noisy, but it seems fine; typical of other truck stops and diners across the country. I smile and lean forward, raising my voice to compensate for the din around us.

“Did we come here a lot?”

“All the time. There wasn’t much around in the days before and what we have now always has a queue a mile long.” Al returns my smile and then announces, “I’m going to have the steak. How about you kid, what do you feel like?”

We’ve eaten in every night since I moved back to the house and while I can’t complain about his cooking it’s good to have a change. 

“Maybe something light,” I say. “The salad I think.” 

Al shakes his head, feigning concern.

“What?”

“You’re not gonna keep your strength up with a couple of pieces of wilted lettuce,” he informs me. 

I’m about to tell Al that I was planning on adding tuna to my salad when he winks at me and understanding finally dawns. I feel myself colour; heat rising to my cheeks. I duck my head, more embarrassed that I walked, figuratively speaking, into one of Al’s setups than the idea that he has just announced to anyone closer enough to hear that I need to keep my strength up. 

There is no doubt that Al has more stamina than many men half his age. The last few weeks have been an awakening of sorts to just how fit he is. Still, usually he keeps his teasing to a bare minimum when there are other people around. 

I know I need to talk to him; ask some questions about the two of us, but this is hardly the place to have that particular conversation. I wonder though, if now might be an opportunity to at least start it.

A shift in the crowd of diners still waiting to be seated makes me pause however, and I look up.

One of the waitresses’ approaches with the drinks we have ordered and we both sit back while she places a beer in front of me and a black coffee in front of Al.

“Have you decide what you want to eat?” she inquires once she has finished. A pencil held at the ready to take down our order.

Al offers her one of his patented smiles. Twisting in his seat he slings one arm along the shoulder of the booth and leans back to give her his full attention. I may not remember our life before I leaped, but there is no forgetting Al turning on the Calavicci charm. 

“Yeah, I think we’re ready,” he begins. “I’ll have the steak, baked potato instead of fries. And,” he adds, handing her back his menu. “I’ll have a piece of cherry pie for desert. I’m in the mood for something _sweet_.”

I’m sure she has heard worse, but still. Al’s lines haven’t improved over the years. She looks to me next and with Al grinning at me across the table I do my best to keep a straight face. 

I place my order without further input from Al and the waitress heads back towards the kitchen. We fall quiet then, but with all the noise around us it’s not uncomfortable. I sip my beer and watch Al drink his coffee, setting the cup to one side of the table when he is finished. He glances at me a few times and at our fellow diners, happy it seems to just check the messages on his cell phone as we wait for our meals. 

When I came home Al explained who knew about the two of us and who didn’t. He didn’t provide details, but the reasons why some of our colleagues had not been informed became obvious within days. From what I have learnt acceptance for relationships like ours hasn’t changed much in all the years I was leaping and public displays of affection in places like this are still frowned upon. Al also told me that we don’t flaunt what we share, which I know is wise. 

Of course there are plenty of ways to communicate and with that in mind I readjust my legs under the table, making sure that they press against Al’s. The gesture has an immediate response and he looks over at me again, his eyes going wide when I slip out of one of my loafers and slide my bare foot under the hem of his slacks. 

“I’ve been thinking,” I begin, my foot slowly working its way up the inside of Al’s leg. 

“Careful, Sam,” he warns. 

The double innuendo is too much to ignore and I roll my eyes. “I was going to say I was thinking about the weekend and how we might spend it.” 

Once again I watch as Al checks out the diners closest to us; his eyes darting from one group to the next, then clearly satisfied that no one in the immediate vicinity is paying attention to us he leans across the booth, his voice dropping a sultry level. “Oh,” he leers, “Let me guess, you’ve got something in mind.” 

Al arches an eyebrow at me and I can’t help but smile. He can be completely incorrigible sometimes and I know I really shouldn’t encourage him, still if it gets us talking on the same subject then it’s for a good cause I decide. Extracting my foot from his pant leg I slip into my loafer again and sit up straighter in my seat. Al looks a bit disappointed, but I know he understands. There is no point being obvious and while it appears that no one is listening to our conversation it doesn’t mean they aren’t watching us.

I take another sip of my beer and lean forward again. “I thought we might try something,” I say quietly, making sure that it is only Al that can hear me. 

As expected his curiosity is piqued. Al seems to like it when I take the initiative. I know it’s because he is still hoping my memory will return, even though he says it doesn’t matter. 

“Something new?” he inquires. 

I shrug my shoulders noncommittally and drain my glass. “Maybe.” 

My reply is ambiguous enough to give Al something to think about. Maybe even let him get used to the idea that I am willing to step outside the comfort zone we have created for ourselves and try new things. 

Our meals arrive while he is still pondering a response and the subject is changed to less obscure subjects. The weather, which is apparently drier than usual and the baseball game that Al wants to watch over the weekend.

\---*---

Our first evening out is deemed a success and after Al finishes his cherry pie, taking the time to chase the last crumb around his plate and lick his spoon, he drives us home again. I reach out to him as we drive, placing my hand on his thigh. It seems natural, as if it’s something I’ve done before; a feeling that is confirmed when he covers my hand with his own, lacing our fingers together and squeezing them gently as he holds them in his lap. He keeps both eyes on the road ahead of us, but I note the corner of his lips curve into a small smile that lingers for the duration of the trip. 

Al parks the car in the drive way of the house when we arrive and turns off the engine. Our neighbourhood is very quiet. The street only has three houses and according to Al the surrounding land has remained untouched for all the years he has lived here. The houses either side of ours are in darkness, suggesting that no one is home yet or that maybe they have gone away for the weekend. 

A shooting star darts across the sky overhead just as we are releasing our seatbelts and we sit for a moment waiting for it to light up the desert landscape. 

I had forgotten how beautiful it is here and I glance over at Al; reminded of how much I love him and how lucky I am to have him in my life. His face is shadowed as he continues to look skyward, searching for another star I guess and I reach for him again. This time smoothing his aging cheek with the back of my hand. 

“We should go inside,” I suggest. 

I let my hand fall away, resting it on Al’s shoulder as he turns to face me. His dark eyes meeting mine in the relative privacy of the car just before he leans in to kiss me. His mouth is soft and considering where we are I don’t expect more than a brief press of lips. It is not the case however. One of his warm hands appears to stroke over my jaw and the other to thread through my hair; his tongue seeking entrance to my mouth. We’ve never done anything like this outside the house, but I give in without really thinking about it, twisting in the confines of the car to meet Al halfway and to return his kiss with equal enthusiasm. 

It is difficult to know how long it goes on. I can feel myself stirring when headlights illuminate the interior of the car and Al pulls back. A large dark-coloured SUV passes behind us and pulls up next door. We are both breathing pretty heavily and neither of us speak as we wait for our neighbours to exit their vehicle and go inside. 

After a minute or two Al and I follow suit. 

The door is no sooner closed behind us before he is on me again, crowding me up against solid timber that separates us from the outside world with the full weight of his body. I’ve never known Al to be so directive, not like this and it is only when his mouth descends on mine, kissing me breathless I realise that he has no intention of waiting until we retire for the night like he usually does. His hands seem to be everywhere at once; one pulling my shirt from my jeans and the other sliding around the back of my head to hold me in place as he moves to my throat. I strain my neck to give him better access, my head spinning and my dick twitching to life as he alternates between biting and sucking on the chorded muscle. I close my eyes, moaning unashamedly, it feels so good. 

I try to reciprocate, to let Al know that I like what he is doing, but it’s difficult to move and I have to settle for taking a hold of his hips. A leg is inserted between my own and I can feel him getting hard as he undulates against me; his straying hand slowly slipping the buttons on my shirt while he continues to mark me. He ducks his head as soon as the task is accomplished, his mouth moving lower to my chest, lapping and sucking once again until he reaches his goal. The sensation of his tongue circling my nipple goes straight to my groin. I open my eyes and arch my back, silently begging him to take the small nub in his mouth then moan again when he does. My response to this particular form of simulation never ceases to surprise me and for a few moments all I can think is how good it is. It feels incredible to have Al touch me this way and it is only when I note him working to open my jeans that I know I need to slow things down.

I have plans for tonight and they don’t include coming in my jeans and it’s with some effort that I push him away. Al head comes up, but we haven’t bothered with the lights so it’s a little hard to make out his expression. 

“Is something wrong?” He sounds confused and slightly out of breath. 

I shake my head; feeling a little winded myself. “No.” 

I still have a firm hold on Al’s hips and I lean in and kiss him, doing the only thing I can think of to reassure him. We are both hard though and it’s difficult to think, to remember what I am trying to achieve, especially when he immediately tries to heat things up again. Pulling away is no easier the second time and I know he has got to be wondering what’s going on. Relinquishing my hold on him I side-step away from the door. 

With Al nothing is that easy and he reaches for me as I attempt to move further into the room, catching me around my waist and swinging me around, once again taking me in his arms. It feels like we’re dancing and I can’t help but laugh and then groan as he grinds us together. 

“You have a one track mind,” I tell him, still trying to pull away. 

“Oh and you don’t Sam? I thought you wanted to try something new?” 

I still don’t know it’s new or not. If Al and I have previously discussed intercourse and agreed it wasn’t something we wanted to indulge in or if there was some other reason he seemed to be excluding the possibility? The thought of being a part of him, of joining together when we made love seemed a natural progression of what we already shared and the more I think about it, the more I know I want it. 

“I do.” This said as I finally succeed in freeing myself. 

Thankfully, Al appears to get the hint and I remain unmolested while he reaches for the living-room light, turning it on. The room is flooded with 100 watts of electricity. It’s harsh and unforgiving; too bright and I shield my eyes. 

“I just want to make it last,” I explain, keeping the distance between us, “I also need to take a shower.”

Al’s face is flushed and the outline of his erection is clearly visible through his slacks and I guess I’m in no better shape. He doesn’t appear angry though, just a little frustrated. Something I am planning to remedy very soon. I have no intention of asking for what I want without proper preparation and I take another step towards the hallway.

“I won’t take long, I promise.” 

I don’t invite Al to join me in the shower or wait for his reply. I make a beeline for the bathroom, turn on the water and strip off. It’s a relief to get my jeans off. I’m still hard and while I want to wait for Al I stroke my length a couple of times, just to take the edge off, then get on with the business at hand.

\---*---

I work through my shower in record time, washing and rinsing then turn off the water. I half expect Al to come in while I’m drying myself off to try and continue what he started in the car, but he doesn’t show. 

The house is mostly dark when I exit the bathroom. There is a soft light emanating from our bedroom and that’s where I find Al, sitting on our turned down bed, sans most of his clothes. He looks up when I enter, appraising me with loving eyes. I haven’t bothered with my usual sleepwear and I know the towel I have wrapped around my hips doesn’t leave much to the imagination. 

I feel something warm take shape behind my ribs as his eyes move over me. I enjoy the way Al looks at me, it’s open and appreciative. It’s also a complete contradiction I realise, especially when I think about how easily he can make me blush with his off-colour jokes. Still, I have to acknowledge, it’s different when it’s just the two of us. I remember the first night we spent together, recalling that it was his open appraisal of me that gave me the strength I needed to move things forward with him. It’s almost as if seeing myself through his eyes makes me braver somehow. I can do things I never imagined before; ask for things I never thought I wanted. 

Crossing the threshold of the room we share shouldn’t feel different to any other time and yet it does. The mood between us feels far removed from before. Less urgent and more set. I still don’t know how we were before or if he will understand why what I want for tonight is so important to me, I only know that I want to be everything to him. 

Al’s arms lift, encouraging me forward as I come to stand in front of him then bend in the circle of his embrace to press my lips to his. My heart skipping a beat and my body stirring once again. I take his face in my hands, lapping and biting at his mouth, jaw and throat, listening for the small sounds of pleasure he makes as I mark him in much the same way he had me earlier. My erection had waned some during my shower but fills and lengthens as Al moans against my mouth, his obvious enjoyment adding to my confidence. I pour everything I have learnt over the last few weeks into my ministrations; staking my claim on him, body and soul and revel in his responses. 

Large warm hands stroke over my hips and down my thighs, squeezing and kneading when I suck his tongue into my mouth then offer my own in return. Both of us lost in the exchange, the sounds and the sensation and it’s only when I endeavour to move things along and pull back that the same warm hands travel upward again to bury beneath my towel and to wrap around my cock. 

It’s unexpected, though I guess it shouldn’t be. 

I groan aloud and look down at Al. 

“Got to taste you,” he tells me, already tugging the towels out of the way and dropping it on the floor at my feet. 

The pupils in Al’s eyes are huge, his lips bruised, his jaw rubbed red but I know that he is just as aroused as I am. 

I also know that he loves going down on me and while this isn’t exactly what I had in mind I don’t try to dissuade him when he angles my hips to his satisfaction then leans forward to swipe his tongue from the base to tip. Broadening my stance I use one of his shoulders for support and tangle my free hand in his hair when he takes me in mouth; humming around my length and sending shivers up my spine. It feels better than good, incredible in fact and looks and sounds like something out of an x rated movie. 

For the briefest of moments I simply enjoy the view and the sweet suction my lover applies to my member, moaning each time he grazes his teeth around the crown. I close my eyes momentarily, breathing through my nose. As good as this feels I know that I can’t lose myself in it, can’t let Al get carried away. I don’t spend a lot time pondering where he gained his obvious skill for this particular act, but it doesn’t matter because he is very good at it and I need to pay attention. 

It is no use of course. My legs are already beginning to shake and the urge to thrust is becoming stronger by the second. I squeeze Al’s shoulder and tug gently at his hair, attempting to warn him as I withdraw, then use my position to ease him backward on to the bed. 

There is no resistance from Al and I stand up again, doing my best to ignore the throbbing between my legs as I survey the sight he makes sprawled across the covers. His hard-on is barely contained inside his underwear and the shirt, which he has unbuttoned but left on, hangs loosely at his sides, framing his torso in red silk. 

Al stretches as I standover him; slow and sexy, folding his arms behind his head and spreading his legs. “You look like a man with a plan Sam,” he remarks. 

For the first time since I entered our room I feel myself hesitate. I know what I want, but finding the right words seems elusive all of a sudden. “I am,” I tell him. 

“Will I like it?” he returns, his voice pitched low. 

I don’t answer and turn instead to retrieve the lube from the bedside table then switch off the lamp. I can feel Al’s eyes tracking my movements, his curiosity as palpable as the desire circulating between us. Dropping the lube on the bed I lay down beside him, smoothing over his bare chest and down lower as I release him from the confines on his underwear. Cupping the sensitive skin between his legs and gently rolling the precious content in the palm of my hand. He moans at the contact and rolls towards me, hooking one of his legs over mine and forcing our hip together, his lips seeking mine once more. There is little finesse this time; it’s all tongue and teeth, rough cheeks and the distinctive scent of male musk. Our bodies pressed hard against one another, rocking together in what is now a familiar and most welcome embrace. 

I can feel Al’s hands moving over me as we kiss, stroking over my back and shoulders. Giving and accepting without question, waiting I realise, for me to decide where we go from here. I know my moment of truth has arrived and it is with a renewed sense of purpose that I pull back from him, and then reach behind me for what I need. The lube is where I left it and I hold it out to Al. 

“What did you want me to do with this?” he asks, taking it from me. His eyes dark, questioning. 

The last thing I want is for Al to think that I haven’t been satisfied with our love making so far, because that could not be further from the truth. Yes, some of it had taken time to get used to; to acquire the taste, Al would say, but I know he loves me and would give me back all the years we have lost if it were within his power to do so. 

My mouth has gone dry and I lick my lips, attempting to moisten them. I can feel the blood pounding in my ears, my heart hammering against my ribs. “I want you to put your fingers inside of me…” I manage. 

I can see Al blinking at me. For a moment it feels like the world around us has slowed down and we are both caught in the inevitable drag of the planet’s changed orbit. Al’s unspoken ‘ _and_ ’ hangs in the space between us. I know he is expecting me to say more, explain myself, but the words seemed to be firmly lodged in my throat. I swallow hard. “So that you can… _fuck_ me.” 

The last comes out broken, unrehearsed and I am not surprised when Al rolls on to his back and props himself up on his elbows to stare at me. 

“Are you sure that’s what you want, Sam?” He sounds unsure, as if he can’t quite believe what I had said. 

I swallow again. “More than anything,” I tell him. 

It’s difficult to know if Al believes me or not. Granted I’m not usually this forthright, but I feel like I have missed something important. I sit up, folding my legs in front of me and look over at him. 

“Can you tell me why?” he asks, the tube of lubricant I had given him still held in one of his hands. 

Al’s question is not unexpected, not when I consider how careful he has been with me since I came home. I need him to understand though, that while a great deal of the physical relationship we share is new to me, I am not afraid. I can take the rough with the smooth. If it turns out that having penetrative sex with him isn’t something I want to repeat then at least we have had the opportunity to find out. 

“Because I love you, am in love with you, and I want to share myself with you in every way possible.” 

_“Jesus_ , Sam.” 

I’m not sure what Al thought I was going say, but it is clear my response isn’t what he was anticipating. 

In all the years we have known one another I never imagined feeling the way I do about Al. I don’t think I have ever loved anyone more, but as the silence stretches I realise that I probably should have told him more often. 

“Was it something we used to do?” I chance, attempting to keep the conversation going. “Before I leaped, I mean?” 

_“Yes.”_

Al still sounds slightly overwhelmed, but I can’t help myself. 

“Often?” 

It’s too dark to tell for sure, but I have no doubt that Al is rolling his eyes at me. He doesn’t answer me; he does however recover the space between us. One of his hands wrapping around the back of head to hold me close as he covers my mouth with his own. I close my eyes, allowing him to guide our kiss. I am not sure what memories my request has awaken, but the depth of emotion and longing he shares with me is reminiscent of my first days home and it is only when he pulls back again that I glimpse just how affected he is. 

Al’s eyes are bright and his breathing uneven. He doesn’t say anything straight away and it is obvious that he is choosing his words carefully. I lean in, caressing his cheek with the back of my hand, wanting to reassure him. My sprites lifting as he turns head slightly to kiss my fingers then takes my hand in his own, settling both in his lap. 

“I’m not going to fuck you,” he begins, squeezing my hand to stop me interrupting him when I open my mouth to do exactly that. “Not this time,” he goes on, “but if it’s what you want Sam then I will make love to you.” 

“It is,” I say. Too quickly is seems when he cuts me off again. 

“You have to promise me something first.” 

Al is so serious that it makes my chest hurt. “Whatever you want,” I tell him. 

“You have to let tell me if you change your mind. Or if at any stage you want to stop, you have say so. Promise me Sam.” 

I nod again. “I promise.”

Al’s eyes are too bright, his breathing no better than before, but the simple gesture of raising our joined hands once more and pressing soft lips to the backs of my fingers is enough to tell me that he satisfied with my answer. I smile at him through the dark, once again, hoping to reassure him. 

No more is said. He retreats next. Stepping off the side of the bed to strip himself of his underwear and shirt, bending then to tug the bedding down. I lift up, helping where I can as he drags the covers to the foot of the bed. I rearrange myself almost in the centre of the large mattress once the task is complete and wait for Al to join me. 

I’ve been thinking about this for some time and yet now the moment has finally arrived I am not sure what to do. I look up as Al climbs back on to the bed beside me. 

“What should I do?” I ask him.

  
\---*---

Our pillows are removed and Al guides me to the top of the bed and to lie down. The warmth of his body covering my own, his length hard and insistent as it drags against my stomach. Brushing my hair out of my eyes he kisses me again, lapping at the side of my mouth and tracing the shape of my lips with the tips of his fingers before he moves lower; smoothing over my chest, bending my knees and tilting my hips back. 

My position isn’t overly comfortable, or flattering, but I do my best to hold it as long as I can; understanding that it’s what Al needs from me right now. The reality of what we are about to do sinking in as he settles himself between my legs. The idea that he will soon be a part of me and that when he comes he will be inside of me is enough to make my chest swell and my eyes sting. 

I sling an arm over my eyes and try to calm my breathing. I don’t want Al to think that I have changed my mind. My legs are already beginning to tremble though and it’s a relief when instead of asking me if I’m okay, I note him carefully lowering one to the bed; angling it away from my body and lifting the other to rest over his shoulder. 

The familiar sounds of the lube being opened and Al squirting a liberal amount into his hands to prepare us both with seems unusually loud in the ongoing quiet of our room. 

“This will be easier if you focus on the prize,” he tells me. 

I know that Al is trying to explain something to me, but I don’t understand until he lifts my arm away from my eyes and guides my hand down to wrap around the base of my erection; encouraging me to stroke myself. I’m not used to touching myself in front of anyone, even Al. It feels a little strange but I do as he says, trusting him in this as I do all things. 

The first sweep of Al’s fingers across my perineum is not unexpected and yet my breath catches all the same. I close my eyes and tip my head back, reminding myself to relax as he circles my hole then presses against it. My body gives at the intrusion, opening and accepting with only the smallest amount of resistance. I sigh in relief. It feels different to what I thought, but good and I touch myself using lazy strokes as Al ease out and then pushes all the way in again; smiling to myself when he drops a kiss, then gently bites the inside of my thigh. 

As a doctor I am fully aware of the workings of my body and the bundle of nerve endings that surround the human anus, but it’s only when Al attempts to insert another finger alongside the first that I truly appreciate how many there are. There is more resistance this time, I can feel the stretch and pull of over sensitive skin as he works to open me, his blunt fingers probing; begging admittance until he finally pushes inside. 

I open my eyes to look down at him. His face is cast in shadow once more, but his concentration is written in the curve of his body and the focus he applies to my comfort. My heart is pounding now and my dick aching as he slowly withdraws again and then pushes back into me, his fingers twisting, searching I realise, with the first brush of my prostate. I moan aloud. My spine stiffening. The spark of pleasure is shocking, breathtaking. I let go of my cock, clutching blindly for the sheets as I bear down, chasing the sensation and more than anything wanting Al to do it again. 

His head comes up and our eyes meet. “You like that?” 

I’m not sure I can speak. I swallow hard, then swallow again. My legs are shaking of their own accord and my heart is beating so fast that it feels as if it might actually burst from my chest. I bite my bottom lip and nod. 

Al’s grin is endearing. “I thought you might,” he tells me, clearly pleased with himself, then asks. “Do you want me to do it again?”

I still don’t trust my voice and I nod for a second time. 

True to his word I feel Al’s fingers flex and twist, withdrawing a little before sliding back in, searching once more for the gland deep inside of me; nerve endings short-circuiting when he locates it. My body jerks and my hands grope for purchase on the bed. It’s good and too much all at once. I roll my hips, trying to open myself further. 

My cock is lying flat against my stomach and I take hold of it again, mirroring Al’s movements as he strokes inside of me. The wet sound of him slowly fucking me with his fingers and my own ragged breathing filling the air. It feels amazing, better than I imagined. By the time he forces a third finger into me, I can barely think straight or recall that there is more I want.

I can feel the tell-tale signs of my climax coiling in my groin and I let go of my length, rising off the bed and almost bending myself in half as I reach for Al, stilling his hand. 

“I need…” I get out, but no more. 

Thankfully it appears that no more is required. Al’s eyes are wild, ablaze with unmet need and I know he understands, that we are both very close. He hushes me gently and I ease myself back down on to the bed as he carefully withdraws he fingers and wipes them on the sheets. 

I feel open, ready. Strangely calm despite my heart hammering in my chest and the sharp edge of my arousal rising steadily, threatening to overtake me as the leg he has been supporting for me is once again lowered to the bed and like its twin is angled away from body. Al sits back then, his eyes fixed with mine, his breathing as irregular as my own as he smooths over the tendons close to my crotch but carefully avoids the area where I need him most. 

Everything he does is a testament to how much he loves me and I know that this will be no different. Still, tears prickle at the corners of my eyes again as I watch him retrieve the lube and coat himself; rising to his knees next to stare down at me. 

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he says. The emotion evident in his voice as slides his arms under my backside and drags me into his lap. The heat of his erection poised against my hole when he bends forward again.

Al’s head comes to rest against my shoulder and I wrap one hand around the back of his neck and reach down to knead his rear, holding him close as I register the first push and then the pull and slow burn as he enters me. I fight the urge to cry out; clinging to him, reminding myself to breathe, that I want this, want Al inside of me. His body is covered in a fine sheen of perspiration and my hands slip and slide as I try to ground myself. I can feel his warm breath against my shoulder and hear the small sounds of comfort he offers. Soothing me as the tears that have been looming since the very beginning of this fall unchecked down my cheeks.

I can feel Al’s heart pounding against my chest and I know he is holding himself still, waiting for me to adjust and to take him in. I close my eyes, petting his damp hair. My legs feel like they weigh a ton but I lift them one at a time, each trembling with effort to hook over his back, locking my ankles together and rolling my hips. The relief is instantaneous. The burn fades and I moan aloud, giving a voice to my satisfaction when I feel him press the rest of the way inside. 

Al’s answering moan of approval resounds off the walls around us and for a moment we hold our positions, each clinging to the other. I know it can’t last though. I open my eyes again when Al raises his head, returning his gaze and briefly tasting the exertion on his lips. Feeling more loved and cherished than I ever thought possible as he kisses away the tears from my face; whispering words of praise that make my heart swell and my body ache. 

I feel full, stretched to capacity and I know Al needs to move, that we can’t stay like this indefinitely. I tip my head back as he shifts again, steeling myself as he pulls back and then groan in unison with him when he presses home again. With Al’s cock buried deep in inside of me and my own trapped between our bodies I struggle to keep up with the sensations assailing my senses. The heat and sounds of our union feel too much and not enough at the same time. I whimper and moan, unable to control myself and claw at his back, my legs slipping each time he pulls back; only to readjusts the trajectory of his hips when he thrusts in again. 

The third time is a charm. Al finds my prostate, pushing in impossibly deep and making me see stars. 

I feel like I’m on fire. Like I am going to implode. I cry out, unashamed. I can’t decide if I want to force myself further on to his cock or rub my own against the flat plane of his stomach as he leans over me, pressing himself deeper. Neither seems to be enough and I try to get a hand between us to touch myself. Everything is hot and moist. My grip on Al precariously close to being lost as my legs slip again, one sliding over his rump to land on the bed while the other somehow manages to stay in place, holding me open.

I do what my body demands, fisting myself while Al drives us towards completion. I know he is close, I can hear his ragged gasps for breath and feel the carefully aimed thrust of his hips each time he pushes inside of me. The last glide over my prostrate coupled with the steady pumping on my cock ultimately tipping me over the edge. There are flashes of light behind my eyes, my spine stiffening with the familiar tightening in my groin, the nerve endings throughout my body once more sparking and connecting as my climax overtakes me.

Powerful in its intensity; blissful after so long, I ride the steady wave of euphoria, my mind awash, and my limbs trembling uncontrollably. The liquid heat of my release still pulsing between Al and I as I feel him pull back and then drive back in again, his own release filling me moments later. I hold him as he shakes, the last of his pleasure spilling forth, his body warm and smooth under my hands; revelling in the feeling of him on top of me, inside of me, loving me as he has.

I lower the leg I still have over Al back while he settles. I feel stretched and the muscles in my back and legs are strained and sore. I also feel incredibly happy, complete in ways I never thought I would want. 

None of which seem to be lost on Al as he slips from my body and then pushes up with his arms to look at me. A serious expression marring his very handsome features. I smile at him through the dark and reach for him as he pulls back further, stroking over his face and down his damp chest. 

“God Sam, are you okay? Did I hurt you, are you...?” 

I know what Al is referring to and I shake my head. “I’m fine, Al. Better than fine. I feel amazing. Thank you.” 

It’s difficult to know if he believes me or not. He looks a lot like I feel. Exhausted, but sated beyond words. We are both also incredibly sticky, I realise when leans in to kiss me. His lips are soft and sweet, as intoxicating as ever, but the evidence of what we have just shared seems to be everything and not to be ignored. My nose wrinkling and Al’s eyes twinkling with childish delight when he sits back between my legs. 

“All part of the perks,” he tells me. 

I can’t help but smile. Al was never one to stay serious for too long and I am glad. 

“I’m going to get something to clean up with,” he informs me; swooping in for another kiss before he steps off the side of the bed and disappears down the hallway. 

Another shower is probably in order, but I am not sure my legs are actually capable of holding me upright just yet. The bed is a mess; the sheets damp and rumpled. I lay where I am. Enjoying the moment. Happy to be home, to be loved and to be slowly but surely rebuilding my life with Al. 

The end. 


End file.
